


Ars Moriendi

by afterglowlita



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Friends, F/F, M/M, Pining, Redeemed Ben Solo, Redemption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 02:14:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11453847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterglowlita/pseuds/afterglowlita
Summary: "I’m sorry,he thinks to himself as he looks out over the landscape of the Resistance’s newest base planet from window of his quarters—his new home. It’s not the first time he’s sent that thought out into the universe, nor will it be the last. He wonders how many times he’ll have to say it to make up for what he’s done. He wonders if he’lleverbe able to make up for what he’s done."





	Ars Moriendi

**Author's Note:**

> Last year, I made [this](http://glowlita.tumblr.com/post/152714399692/im-thinking-about-writing-a-kylux-au-where-kylo) post about writing a Ben Solo redemption AU, and I've been working on it ever since. I'm still in the process of writing the last bit of it, but I wanted to post the first part just to see how people would like it. 
> 
> This is the longest fic I've written to date. Seriously, this story has become my child, and I really hope you guys like it. 
> 
> (Also, I'm so sorry for any mistakes/continuity errors you may find. I don't have a beta and I've edited this to the best of my ability!) 
> 
> Disclaimer(s): I do not own the Star Wars franchise or anything associated with it. 
> 
> As always, feedback and kudos are appreciated!

They don’t trust him, and he can hardly blame them. He feels their glares like daggers in his back, cutting into him every time he turns away. When he enters a room, or moves near them in the canteen, Rey, Finn, and Poe all become hushed, watching his every move as if he’s a predator and they, along with the rest of the Resistance team, are the prey. The air around him changes and he can feel their hatred and mistrust in his bones. 

His mother is far more accepting of his return, though he can sense her own reluctance, her own hurt over the knowledge that he… 

He tries to push the image of his father’s face from his mind. The shock of betrayal etched so perfectly into Han’s features as Kylo’s saber pierced through him and he fell to his untimely death. 

Regret curls in his stomach like a poison, and he screws his eyes shut in an attempt to stop the tears from welling up.

_I’m sorry,_ he thinks to himself as he looks out over the landscape of the Resistance’s newest base planet from window of his quarters—his new home. It’s not the first time he’s sent that thought out into the universe, nor will it be the last. He wonders how many times he’ll have to say it to make up for what he’s done. He wonders if he’ll _ever_ be able to make up for what he’s done. The venomous looks he receives from Rey and Finn lead him to believe that he may never be able to atone. 

“You came back, Ben. It’s a start,” Leia’s voice breaks through his thoughts, startling him back to reality. He looks over his shoulder to see his mother leaning against the frame of the door he doesn’t remember leaving open. 

She looks nothing like a princess and everything like a general, dressed in her typical garb that favors function over style. Ben squirms over the fondness that blooms in his chest. It’s unusual and foreign to acknowledge that he missed his mother when he’s spent so much time resenting her and everything she represents. Deep down, he feels that he doesn’t deserve the acceptance   
that she’s so willingly given him upon his return, but it’s made the transition from the Dark to the Light easier, more bearable. Ben feels as though he were a child again, lost and looking for a place to belong, but this time he has his mother to guide him, and he’s more than willing to accept that guidance. 

“Sometimes I forget that I’m not the only Force-sensitive one in the family,” Ben says, a ghost of a smile on his lips. 

Leia doesn’t hesitate to smile back, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. He resists the urge to shrug her off and instead focuses on the warmth that radiates through his clothing. 

“No,” she sighs, rubbing his shoulder gently. “Unfortunately, most of us in this family are.” 

“Unfortunately?”

“Have you ever tried to play cards with your uncle? He’s impossible to beat, and I _know_ it’s because he’s cheating.” 

Ben looks down and grins at his feet. It’s odd, really, how natural this feels for him. He’d never envisioned himself being able to joke with his mother the way he did when he was young. 

“I know better than to play cards against a fully-trained Jedi,” Ben says. 

Leia chuckles, warm and low, looking out over the base from the window in Ben’s quarters. Members of the Resistance scurry about--some in small groups, consulting one another about schematics or training plans; others walking alone, heading towards X-Wings, the canteen, or the barracks for a bit of rest. 

The Resistance base is small but formidable. The number of allies has only grown since the destruction of Starkiller. Once word of Kylo Ren’s death had spread, many flocked towards the cause, as the greatest enemy of the First Order no longer posed a threat. Victory was within the Resistance’s grasp, though vengeance against the monsters who destroyed the New Republic also fueled the fire. 

Few on the base know of Ben’s former identity. Leia’s official story for her son’s sudden appearance was that he’d been working as a smuggler in the Outer Rim, unaware of the things happening throughout the rest of the galaxy. It was only when Ben heard about the destruction of the Hosnian system through “word of mouth” that he decided to contact his mother and make sure she was okay. When she told Ben of her new role as General Leia Organa-Solo, he’d dropped everything and came to find her and join the Resistance’s cause. 

Most people accepted Leia’s story without issue. Of course, Rey, Finn, and Poe knew better, but said nothing about it. Instead, they spent their time silently hating Ben, keeping their distance from him whenever possible. Ben understood their feelings and felt it best that he stay out of their way. 

“You know, I didn’t mean to intrude,” Leia says, patting his shoulder before pulling away. “I just wanted to tell you that the superior officers are holding another meeting tomorrow.” 

Ben asks, “More arguing about what the next move should be?” 

“We may be a rebel organization, but we’re also our own bureaucracy, now,” Leia sighs. “With the New Republic gone, the surviving leaders had to go _somewhere_.” 

“I thought you left your Senate position to _avoid_ political in-fighting.” 

Leia smirks, “Well, that was the idea. But things happen. Like the total annihilation of our residing government system.” 

“Yeah,” Ben nods, “Small things like that. Minor details.” 

Leia huffs a laugh and tugs at Ben’s ear. “Don’t be a smart-ass.” 

“Well, I got it from you,” Ben muses.

Leia turns to him with a playful smile. “You got it from both of us.” 

Ben’s smile fades as a new wave of guilt washes over him. 

“Please consider coming to the meeting,” Leia says. “Despite what you think, you’re an invaluable part of this team, and we could use your knowledge and insight to determine how we should proceed.” 

“The other senators don’t know about my past.” 

Leia shrugs, “So you listen and take notes, and we can discuss things in my quarters afterwards. Or we spin a story about how you know so much. You know I do love to spin a good story.” 

Ben grimaces, fidgeting with a loose thread on the sleeve of his tunic. 

Leia continues, “If the senators, or anyone else on the base found out about you, it could be disastrous. And I say that not only as a general, but as a mother. If they found out about everything, Ben, who’s to say what they’d do? And even if the people here didn’t try anything, word would spread and the First Order would absolutely look for you if they found out you’re alive. I know you don’t want to hear this, but if the senators found out, they’d have absolutely no reason to trust you, me, or the cause.” 

“Because they’d think I’m dangerous. That I might succumb to the Dark Side again,” Ben says. 

Leia nods, “Yes. I’m sorry, Ben. I know it’s a tough pill to swallow.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, staring down at his hands, braced against the edge of the open window. He’s not angry, or even upset. He understands the position the entire organization would be in if everyone found out about his past. Leia had already worked so hard to cover up the truth, and maintaining Ben’s fictitious backstory was the safest option. It was for the greater good. 

“Kylo Ren is dead,” Ben says finally. His mind flashes back to that final, fateful conversation with his father, when he was still Kylo Ren, still fighting against the pull to the Light. Ben Solo had to die for Kylo Ren to live, but the flame still flickered, growing stronger after his confrontation with Rey on Starkiller. “I just wish the people who _do_ know would believe that.” 

“Give them time,” Leia says, pressing a small kiss to his shoulder as she looks out over the small figures scurrying about the base. “Eventually, they’ll see in you what I do.” 

Leia leaves Ben to think, asking him once more to consider attending the meeting before leaving the room. Once the door shuts, Ben flings himself back on his cot and covers his face with his pillow, letting out a loud, frustrated sigh. 

He feels small again, like a child on the verge of a tantrum. He tries to swallow down a whimper that crawls up his throat, blinking back the tears of guilt, frustration, and exhaustion that blur his vision. He may not be Kylo Ren any longer, but Ben still finds it difficult to keep his emotions in check. Luke has helped to the best of his ability, teaching Ben the fundamentals of Jedi training, though he can sense his uncle’s apprehension to work with him again. 

Meditation has always been the best outlet for focusing himself. He glances at the clock and realizes that it’s almost time for supper, but he’s not feeling particularly hungry, and the idea of going down to the canteen and sitting amongst throngs of talkative people isn’t appealing in the slightest. 

Ben sighs again and slides from his cot to the floor, sitting straight-backed and cross-legged. He takes a deep, soothing breath and exhales deeply, his eyes closed as he tries to push out the negative feelings from his mind and focus on the vast nothingness the Force allows him to perceive. 

The darkness is comforting; he can purge his mind of his negativity and realign his focus towards what matters now. He inhales again and exhales almost forcefully, as if he’s sending all of those dark feelings into the void where they belong. After a few minutes, he pulls himself from the darkness and shuts it out, as if the negativity will escape and find its way back to him. 

In his meditative state, Ben decides to poke around the base from the comfort of his own quarters. He chooses Finn as a place to start and reaches out to find him. 

Finn’s thoughts are quick and calculating, surging through a list of fighting tactics as he stands off against Rey in hand-to-hand training. Ben can sense his focus, but underneath, there’s also a sense of terrified urgency. Finn is scared to fight Rey, and Ben honestly can’t blame him. Her physical training combined with Luke’s training have molded her into a deadly force to be reckoned with. 

Ben moves on from Finn’s thoughts, focusing now to find Poe amongst the many minds on base. 

Poe’s thoughts are easy and relaxed. Half of his mind is consumed with the physical work he’s doing on his X-Wing, while the other half is focused on the words of a song that’s been looping in his head for days. He’s singing these words loudly and off-key to BB-8, who rolls around and chirps as if he’s dancing and singing along with Poe. 

He pulls away from Poe’s mind in amusement. There’s an easy friendliness to Poe that’s disarming, and Ben wishes he could achieve the same demeanor. Perhaps, if he were more approachable, he wouldn’t have to pseudo-socialize by reading people’s minds and lying through his teeth to those who don’t know of his true past. 

Ben pushes these thoughts from his mind. They affect his focus, and he wants-- _needs_ \--his mind to be blissfully blank in order to strengthen that focus. He wants a challenge, something that will really test how far Ben’s focus can reach. 

Suddenly, a thought crosses his mind. What if he’s strong enough to reach out and find Hux? It’s a bad idea--a terrible one, really--and the chances of Ben finding him the vastness of the galaxy seem slim. 

Except… 

Except Ben knows that the last movement of the First Order fleet was near Mimban in the Expansion Region. News of their movement came only a few standard days ago. Ben knows that the fleet may still be there, or still within the region, at least. 

Despite every part of him screaming that it’s a terrible idea, Ben decidedly reaches out, searching the universe for the one mind he misses the most. Like a blip on a radar, Ben finds him sleeping, dreaming vividly as Hux typically does. 

When Ben was still stationed on Starkiller—when he was still the angry, murderous Kylo Ren—he would meditate during his off hours, choosing to focus his anger and energy into something more productive than destroying expensive equipment. Occasionally, during his meditation, he would reach out to the off-duty officers who slept soundly in their own quarters. Kylo and Hux had exactly the same schedule by Snoke’s request, and much to Hux’s chagrin.

Kylo didn’t need to use the Force to know that Hux had a disdain for him unlike anyone else. A simple brush against Hux’s mind told him that he thought of Kylo’s “mystical powers” as nothing more than a farce, and he saw Kylo as a nuisance at best. Eventually, Hux realized that the icy hotness that delicately seized his mind from time-to-time was Kylo’s doing, and he promptly shut Kylo out, chastising him for prying into business that ‘ _wasn’t his to pry into, Ren, honestly_.’ So Kylo took to reading Hux’s mind while he slept, watching his dreams like a holovid projected against his eyelids. 

Hux’s dreams have always been scattered; fragmented pieces of a rainy planet, a cold father, and a mixture of significant moments in his life, ranging from proud to humiliating. Kylo has watched Hux subconsciously relive his appointment as General of the First Order and felt every elated emotion that he experienced. He’s watched Hux relive relentless bullying, awkward first kisses, and Academy training that nearly broke him. Hux rarely ever dreamt of anything that wasn’t directly related to his memories. 

This is dangerous. Ben knows that reaching out to Hux is like playing with fire, but he can’t help it. 

The dream itself is hazy. Ben has been out of practice with his mind-reading ever since he left his former life behind out of concern that the other Knights of Ren, or worse, _Snoke_ , may sense him, follow his energy, and figure out where he is. His fears were eventually put to rest by Luke. He had worked with Rey for several months before they returned to the Resistance’s base, and nobody had managed to find them. It wasn’t as if the First Order or the Knights were going to actively search for him anyway. For all they knew, Kylo Ren was dead, defeated in battle and returned as nothing but ash and scraps of fabric from his robes. 

Mind-reading is easier in closer proximity, but Ben eventually focuses himself enough to get a clearer picture of Hux’s dreams. 

Ben watches Hux run frantically, ankle-deep in snow, his breathing heavy and labored as the frigid air stings his lungs. Hux murmurs to himself, thoughts racing as he tries to figure out where Ren could possibly be. The datapad tells him that Ren’s tracking device is nearby, and he swivels his head around, looking for anything vaguely Ren-shaped in the snow. 

Hux is dreaming of the destruction of Starkiller Base. 

He treads through the snow but his legs feel heavy. He spots Kylo Ren’s dark figure lying in the snow and his stomach lurches. 

“Please don’t be dead, you kriffing idiot,” Hux says. He makes his way towards Ren’s body but he doesn’t seem to be getting any closer. Hux continues to struggle in vain. Every step forward he takes feels like it brings him one step back, like he’s on a piece of exercise equipment. 

“ _Ren_ ,” Hux calls out, arm outstretched as he continues to stumble forward. Ren doesn’t stir, and Hux’s heart starts to pound. There’s a real possibility that Kylo Ren could be dead, and that is absolutely unacceptable to Hux, given the current circumstances. 

Except… 

Kylo Ren is already dead. The realization crushes Hux, and he drops to his knees. The snow soaks through his trousers, and Hux is suddenly aware of how much his body aches. Ben feels the ache deep in his bones, sharing Hux’s pain through his connection with the Force. 

In his quarters, Hux stirs in his bed. His arm stretches out above his head, fingers grasping at the air until his arm lowers and finds the folds on the sheets instead. He grips the sheets tightly in his fist and whimpers, tears rolling down his cheeks as he begins to sob in his dream. 

Ben’s chest begins to ache and he makes a sudden, potentially dangerous decision. Hux’s devastation is surprising, and Ben hates seeing him like this, hates the hurt that Hux is experiencing. So, in the darkness of his own quarters, Ben begins to whisper, focusing on projecting his words into Hux’s mind. 

“ _Wake up_ ,” Ben whispers. “ _Wake up, Hux._ ”

In his dream, Hux looks up towards the darkened sky. His brows are furrowed and his gaze moves toward Kylo Ren’s body, which has suddenly disappeared. 

“Ren?” Hux calls out. His voice is hoarse, and his lungs still sting from the cold. 

“ _Wake up_ ,” Hux hears. “ _You need to wake up_.” 

Ben is thrust into darkness once more. Hux has awakened, and Ben severed the connection quickly, for fear that Hux may realize what had been happening. Ben tries not to panic, pulling himself from his meditative state. He covers his face with his hands and groans quietly. How could he be so _stupid_? He let his emotions get the better of him once again, and now he may have the First Order descending upon the Resistance at any moment because he just couldn’t help himself, couldn’t stay out of Hux’s mind because he’s _selfish_. 

Ben tries to steady his breathing. What’s done is done, and chastising himself won’t change whatever happens. 

He stands and quickly sheds his clothing before crawling into bed and pulling the blanket over his head in shame. 

\--

Hux wakes with a gasp, sitting up so quickly that a wave of nausea rolls through his stomach. He’s clutching the fringes of his standard issue blanket so tightly that his fingers ache. Cold sweat beads along his forehead, lies in a sheen over his body. Hux pulls the blanket back and shivers when the cold, recycled air of the Finalizer hits his skin. He brings a shaky hand up and touches his forehead for a moment before moving his hand over his sleep-tousled hair. There’s a familiar ache in his brain that’s beginning to fade fast. Hux chases it, focusing on the feeling that he’s so desperately missed.

“Ren?” Hux whispers into the darkness. He glances around his room, his eyes slowly adjusting to the pitch blackness that is only occasionally illuminated by the stars that twinkle outside of his port window. He knows Ren is not there; Ren is dead, has been dead for so many months that Hux has lost count. 

His feet hit the floor with a soft thud. Hux stands and takes a moment to find his bearings, rubbing one eye sleepily with the heel of his palm. The clock’s bright green numbers shine brightly above the door. He has some time before Alpha shift begins, but the thought of breakfast sends a fresh wave of nausea through him, and the showers are likely to be crowded with other officers preparing for the work day as well. 

The feeling of warm fur winding between his legs makes him jump. He looks down and smiles at the orange cat, who peers up at him with curious, bright green eyes. She begins to purr, nuzzling the bare skin of his calf. He smiles and leans down to scratch behind her ears. 

“Millicent, darling,” Hux says. “You’re the best thing in my life. But you knew that already, didn’t you?” 

Millicent meows and nips playfully at Hux’s fingers when he pulls away. It’s a bit too early for her breakfast, but Hux decides it wouldn’t hurt to feed her a little earlier than usual. 

He picks out his uniform from the small rack in the corner of the room and dresses with routine efficiency, deciding that he’ll bathe after his shift. There’s no mirror in his quarters, but he’s sure that his hair is messy and tousled from sleep. The tidiness of his hair is the least of his concerns, he decides. There are more important matters to attend to, and he’s no less a general with a bit of a fringe in his eyes or unkempt scruff on his face. 

Millicent follows him from his quarters, keeping close to his legs as he makes his way to his office. Thankfully, he avoids running into any of the pre-shift or post-shift officers. Though none of them would comment on Hux’s appearance (with the exception of Phasma, who dotes over him like a worried mum), he decides that he’d rather not deal with anyone until he’s shaken the odd twisting in his gut that still lingers from his dreams. 

Hux’s greatcoat is still draped over the back of his chair from the previous day, having been left behind and forgotten as Phasma dragged him from his datapad and forced him into bed, muttering something about _exhaustion_ and how ‘ _sleep is a fundamental human activity, General_.’

Hux scoops some food from the airtight tin sitting on his desk and pours it into Millicent’s pink bowl. She nibbles on it, and Hux smiles at the tiny crunching noises that fill the otherwise silent room. 

After filling Millicent’s other bowl with fresh water, Hux settles himself at his desk and logs into his computer, reaching over blindly to pull his datapad closer in the event that anyone tries to contact him through those means. 

The files he had been looking at the previous night are still open. Schematics and notes litter the page, and Hux starts to look through them with painstaking precision. Construction of a new base is already underway, and Hux has every comm-savvy technician working on new security measures that would make it impossible for the Resistance to attack without their prior knowledge. This new team sends their reports directly to him. They’re all competent and thorough with their task, and while Hux is thankful to have such a capable team, it also adds to the work that’s already piled up exponentially since the destruction of Starkiller. 

The Supreme Leader was furious about the attack, but Hux narrowly avoided his wrath by producing Kylo Ren, barely alive but still breathing. He then whisked Ren away to complete some ominous “training,” leaving Hux to pick up the pieces of his splintered cause. 

Hux could sense a change in Ren when he returned. He no longer stalked the corridors, terrifying the wits out of Hux’s soldiers. Rather, Ren started to keep to himself, locking himself away in his quarters, only emerging to take rations delivered by droids. In a way, Hux was relieved. Ren’s presence was unnerving, and Hux’s productivity was no longer hindered by his outbursts and technological damage. 

He should have known something was wrong. Truthfully, Hux _did_ know that something was off, but he was too invested in his own work and too caught up in his contempt for Ren to do or say anything about it. He certainly wasn’t going to approach Ren and try to have a conversation about it, for he was certain that Ren would cut him down with his lightsaber the second he opened the door. 

Now, Hux wonders what would have happened if he _had_ approached Ren. Would anything have changed? Would Ren still be alive? It’s a terrifying thought, carrying the notion that perhaps Ren _wanted_ to die. The idea leaves Hux’s chest aching. 

A knock at the door startles him from his thoughts. He glares at the solid silver door for a moment before pressing the bright red comm button on his desk. 

“Yes?” Hux asks through gritted teeth. The superior officers know better than to disturb him when his office door is closed. 

“Ah--General? It’s Lieutenant Mitaka,” Mitaka’s voice crackles over the comm. 

“The ship had better be on fire and spiraling out of orbit, Lieutenant,” Hux says dryly, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Ah--well--no, it’s not. I was asked to speak with you about something, but if you’re not available, I can come back later--” 

Hux sighs and presses a silver button next to the comm button. The office door slides open. Mitaka stumbles inside, looking both startled and terrified. 

“Speak,” Hux says as he lifts his datapad and scrolls through his pending messages. Amongst those messages is a warning sent from Phasma only minutes ago, alerting him that his lieutenant was en route to his office. 

Mitaka removes his hat and approaches Hux’s desk slowly. He avoids meeting Hux’s eyes as he clears his throat and addresses him.

“General,” Mitaka starts. Hux notices the sweat collecting above his lip and raises an eyebrow. 

“What is it, Lieutenant? I haven’t got all day.” Annoyance laces Hux’s voice and Mitaka fidgets. 

“Sir, I was told to ask whether you would consider possibly signing off on renovation plans for Kylo Ren’s old quarters--” 

“No,” Hux answers, waving his hand dismissively. Mitaka blinks, clearly surprised by Hux’s answer. 

“Sir?” 

Hux sighs through his nose. He sets his down and folds his hands on top of the desk before looking up at his quivering lieutenant. 

“No, Lieutenant, I will not sign off on renovations-- _any_ renovations--to Kylo Ren’s old quarters. That room is to remain intact until I decide otherwise.” 

Mitaka flounders, working his hat deftly into nothing more than a ball of fabric. 

“I understand your position, sir, but the director feels that--” 

“I don’t give a damn what the director thinks, feels, or wants, Lieutenant,” Hux snaps, glowering at Mitaka as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “And if he has any issues with my position on the matter, he can take it up with me personally rather than use my subordinates as messengers. Is that understood?” 

Mitaka nods and gives a shaky salute. “Understood, sir.”

The lieutenant scurries out of the office, and the door slides shut behind him. Hux sighs again, anger curling in his stomach as he mulls over Mitaka’s message. 

The director has brought this up before. Right after word had been received of Ren’s death, he was ready to purge Ren’s quarters of his belongings (what little belongings Ren actually had) and create a new living space for any of the superior officers who had been pushed down into the barracks. When Hux received this news, he immediately sent a direct transmission to the director and shouted at him until he went hoarse. Hux had called him ‘cold’ and ‘insensitive’--words that have often been used to describe his own personality--and reminded the director that, as general of First Order and commander of the _Finalizer_ , _he_ had final say on what happened to his ship. 

‘ _The dead should remain dead, General,_ ’ the director said, his voice unnervingly calm and laced with mild concern over Hux’s heated reaction. 

The dead should honored, Hux thought, and blowing their belongings into the vacuum of space only hours after learning of their death didn’t seem honorable to Hux. Then again, how many times had he ordered those very actions after his own soldiers had fallen? 

The datapad pings, startling Hux from his thoughts. A new message from Phasma appears, and Hux opens it. 

_Calling and shouting at the director won’t change anything._

Hux frowns. 

_Maybe not,_ , he types back, _but it would make me feel exponentially better._

Hux takes his supper in his office, as he’s done every shift during this last standard week. He eats without tasting, his eyes glued to the datapad screen as he shoves spoonfuls of rations into his mouth. Millicent paws at his leg and meows expectantly until Hux sets his plate down for her to lick clean. He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t possibly say no to her sweet face. 

By the end of his shift, Hux’s eyes burn from tiredness and strain. He shuts off the datapad and digs the heels of his palms into his eyes. He can feel a headache forming at his temples and behind his forehead. The work has been a distraction to his wandering thoughts, but Hux can feel exhaustion weighing on him. 

He stands and stretches, wincing at the cracking of his spine. Millicent looks up at him lazily from the cat bed placed in the corner of the room. Her ears perk in interest when Hux reaches for his greatcoat and pulls it over his shoulders. 

“Come, Millicent,” Hux says with a nod of his head. “It’s time for bed.”

Millicent stands and stretches, too before following Hux out into the corridor and running ahead of him to his quarters. Hux shuffles after her slowly. His shoulders sag and his eyes droop. He knows he’s overworking himself but he can’t help it; issue after issue rolls in and Hux is running short-staffed and without a functioning base. 

Hux stops outside of his quarters and reaches for the keypad. He stops short and glances down the hall. Two doors away is Ren’s room, still untouched since his untimely death. Sadness pulls at at Hux’s chest as he stares at the door. He almost misses the way that Ren would emerge and stomp down the hallway obnoxiously just before the start of Alpha shift, as if to alert the entire floor of superior officers that he was out and on the prowl. 

He wonders what the room looks like now. Does it look similar to how it had the few times Hux had entered Ren’s space? Or had Ren changed anything before…?

Hux takes a few quiet steps towards Ren’s door and stops just outside of it. Millicent bumps into his legs and meows at him. She glances at the door to Hux’s quarters and then back at Hux, as if to ask why they’re not going inside. Hux reaches down and gives her a quick scratch behind the ears. 

“It’s okay, darling. We’ll head in there soon enough. I just want to...” Hux looks at the door again. What _did_ he want to do? There’s absolutely no reason for him to enter Ren’s old quarters. There’s no reason for _anyone_ to enter Ren’s old quarters, seeing as Hux had expressly forbade anyone from entering. Perhaps it’s his sense of morbidity, or a feeling of sentimentality that compels him; perhaps it’s both. Before Hux can further question himself, he takes a deep breath and punches in his override code. 

The door slides open with a hiss. He hesitates for a moment, scanning the room that has been undisturbed for months. Hux steps in and reaches back to close the door behind him. The room is plunged back into darkness, and he stands there, leaning against the door as his eyes adjust. 

The room is unnaturally warm. Ren had always insisted on living in perpetual warmth, especially in the cold, snowy climate of their former base. The first time he stepped foot into Ren’s quarters, he wondered whether Ren was of a reptilian-like species with cold blood (Hux had not yet seen that tragically handsome face). Ren chuckled and assured Hux that he was very much human underneath his mask, which startled Hux because _how in blazes did Ren know what Hux was thinking?_

Hux approaches the bed, still rumpled from Ren’s carelessness before he left for his mission--his _final_ mission. 

“Stars, Ren,” Hux whispers. He runs his hand over the sheets before clutching them tightly in his gloved fist. A lump rises in his throat. “Why did you have to die?” 

Tears prick the corner of his eyes and Hux blinks them back quickly. He’s better than this. He’s _stronger_ than this. He’d handled the news of Ren’s death with poise. There’s no reason for Hux to react this way now. 

It’s not as if Hux truly hated Ren. In fact, he’d grown to appreciate having Ren with him during diplomatic meetings, shadowing him like a well-trained attack dog waiting for Hux’s command. Ren had even turned out to be a suitable travelling partner for him. He was mostly quiet and only engaged in conversation when Hux initiated it. He’d also been Hux’s sounding board for many ideas and issues that would cross his desk, sometimes even offering advice that was insightful. 

Now, the pain of Ren’s absence gnaws at Hux’s stomach. Ren plagues Hux’s thoughts both consciously and unconsciously, interfering with his focus and infiltrating his dreams. Hux has always cared about Ren, but now it’s too late to express that; another regret Hux has to live with for the rest of his life. 

Millicent jumps onto Ren’s old cot and looks up at Hux inquisitively. He returns her stare for a few moments before she turns away and curls up at the foot of the bed. He stares at her in surprise; Millicent had a difficult time adjusting to Hux’s quarters on Starkiller, possibly because of the sterile smell the room had when it was first built. He figures Ren’s scent might be familiar to her, but why she would be so comfortable in his quarters is beyond him. 

Hux looks between his cat and the pillow that rests on the opposite end of the cot. It looks inviting, and Hux suddenly remembers just how exhausted he felt as he left his quarters just minutes ago. 

“I can sleep here,” he says to himself. “It’s not strange, is it, Millicent? It’s just Ren’s old quarters. And I’m the general. I can sleep wherever I damn well please.” 

Millicent ignores him, seeming to already have dozed off. Hux sighs and peels off his greatcoat. He sets it down on the small bench in the corner of the room and strips out of the rest of his uniform. 

Finally, he settles down into the cot and pulls the blanket over him. He turns his face into the pillow and inhales deeply, comforted by Ren’s scent surrounding him. Hux swallows audibly, blinking back the tears that blur his vision. 

\--

On quiet days, Ben enjoys spending his time wandering about the base. He’s always intrigued by the work people are doing and by the friendly camaraderie everyone seems to have with each other. 

He finds himself walking the length of the runway where every X-Wing is stored until needed. Pilots tend to spend their off-hours here, tending to their crafts. He passes Jessika Pava, who gives him a smile and a wave. He gives a stiff, awkward wave back and continues down the line. Near the end of the runway, Ben spots Poe crouched inside of his open X-Wing. BB-8 rolls around the craft’s wheels, chirping in a way that makes Ben think he may be conversing with his pilot friend. Ben approaches Poe and BB-8 slowly, hesitating only when BB-8 turns to look at him. 

“Poe,” Ben greets as he walks up to the craft. BB-8 rolls away from him in wariness. 

Poe springs up from the inside of his X-Wing, hair tousled and face smeared with grease as he wipes his hands clean with a white rag. Ben admires the casualness of Poe’s work. Specific sections of Stormtroopers were assigned to make repairs to any technology that came their way, but Poe works on his X-Wing alone, tending to it like a personal craft, or a hobby. It’s the little things, Ben thinks, that emphasize the glaringly obvious differences between the Resistance and the First Order. 

“Ben,” Poe greets with a nod. “What can I do for you?” 

Ben stares at him for a moment. He has no reason to be out here, truthfully. He was thinking too much, took a walk to clear his head, and his feet led him to the runway where every X-Wing owned and operated by the Resistance is stored until needed for combat or reconnaissance. 

“I…” Ben falters. Poe cocks his head in confusion. “Nothing. I just wanted to say hello, I guess.” 

“Oh,” Poe says. “Well, hello.” 

His tone is tense, but not unfriendly. Ben figures this is progress. 

“What are you working on?” Ben asks, looking up at Poe’s grease-covered face. 

“Just doing some fine-tuning. BB-8’s lift needed some oiling, and I figured I’d do a thorough oiling of the gears on my ship.”

A few seconds of uncomfortable silence pass, Poe and Ben avoiding each other’s gaze.

“Well,” Ben clears his throat. “I don’t want to be a bother.” 

“It’s no bother.” Poe jumps down from the X-Wing and discards the dirty rag dangling from his shoulder. “I could use some company right now, and I’m guessing you could, too. Come on, I have some caf in my thermos. Do you want some?” 

“Sure,” Ben answers, slightly stunned at the prospect of Poe _wanting_ his company. Maybe there’s more progress being made than Ben has realized.

He watches Poe uncap the thermos and pour some caf into a small cup. He offers the cup to Ben, who takes it and revels in the warmth that radiates against his palms. Steam rises from the cup as he brings it up to his lips and takes a tentative sip.

“ _Hot_ ,” Ben coughs, wincing as the scalding liquid travels down his throat. 

“Sorry,” Poe chuckles as he pours caf into his own cup. “I should have warned you. This thermos is the best thing I’ve ever spent credits on, honestly. How are you acclimating to the new environment?” 

“It’s...different,” Ben says.

“Different,” Poe repeats. “How do you mean?”

“The feeling is different. People are good to each other here. There’s a warmth and camaraderie that the First Order never had.”

“We’re like a family,” Poe agrees.

“Yeah, you are. I don’t think I’m quite there yet.” 

“Are you not comfortable?” 

“It’s not that, not really. It’s just that some people don’t seem comfortable with _me_.”

“Ben,” Poe sighs, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he tries to figure out what to say next. “Ben,” he repeats. “You have to understand. We’re still a bit… _tender_ about what happened.”

“I understand,” Ben sighs. “It’s not as if I’ve given you any reason to trust me. But...it gets lonely. Nobody else knows anything about me, but that’s just as alienating. I’m the general’s son that nobody knew about until a few months ago, and I can tell people are wary of me. Why are they just learning of me now? Why didn’t I join the Resistance effort sooner? Did I even know that my father…” Ben falters and scrubs his face with his hands. This wasn’t how he wanted this conversation to go. Admittedly, he wasn’t expecting Poe to humor him with any kind of conversation. 

Poe sips his caf quietly, studying Ben’s face as he mulls over his admission. “Are you alone a lot?” 

“Yeah. I mean, I talk to my mother, and Threepio is always happy to have a conversation, but…”

“He can be a little much,” Poe answers with a small smirk. 

“Yeah,” Ben smiles, staring down at his feet. “He always has been. He watched me a lot when I was a kid.”

Poe asks, “What were you like as a kid? I can’t even imagine baby Ben.”

“I was awkward, and my ears were too big. Actually, they still are, but I can hide it now.” Ben touches the ends of his hair with his fingers. “I was a quiet kid, but I had a propensity for mischief.”

Poe raises an eyebrow. “Really? Like what?”

“My mom would hide sweets from me in the highest places that she thought I couldn't reach, but I would always find a way. I was a really good climber. When I started to show signs of being Force-sensitive, I would use my power to grab anything from the shelves. Threepio always told on me, but it was like a game. I wanted to see how much I could get away with.”

“Little hellion Ben Organa-Solo. That’s really cute,” Poe says. 

Ben smiles as he fiddles with the cup in his hand. “Yeah, things were pretty good when I as a kid, but…” 

“You don’t have to talk about it.” Poe’s tone tells Ben that he’s curious, but he’s not sure if he really wants to know, so he doesn’t go any further into that discussion. Instead, Ben hands Poe his cup back and thanks him for the drink. 

“And thank you for spending time with me. I’m sure it’s not something you'd really like to do, but I appreciate it.”

Ben fidgets and looks back towards the base, knowing that he has nowhere to go but to his quarters. Back to his own self-sentenced isolation. He thanks Poe again and turns on his heel to trek back to the main building. He doesn’t get very far before Poe grabs his wrist to stop him. 

“Wait, Ben, I want to say something-- _need_ to say something--just to get it out there.” He looks uneasy and unsure of himself. 

“What’s that?” Ben asks, one eyebrow raised in confusion.

Poe takes a deep breath. “Despite everything that’s happened, I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you’re on our side.”

Ben is quiet for a moment, then he snorts and responds bitterly, “You seem to be the only one.” 

Poe half-smiles and rests a comforting hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Rey and Finn will come around eventually. They’re good kids, Ben, but--” 

“But I’ve got to earn their trust, considering I gave Finn that massive scar on his back and put him into a coma, and kidnapped Rey so I could interrogate her for information. Not to mention that I nearly killed her as well. 

Poe opens and closes his mouth a few times before laughing weakly. “Yeah. Pretty much all of that.” 

Ben eyes Poe warily before asking, “Why are you so open with me, then?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I _tortured_ you, Poe. I forcibly took information from your _mind_ , yet you’re still happy that I’m here.” 

“Forgiveness is a hell of a thing, isn’t it?” Poe says. 

“But how can you possibly forgive me for--” 

“Hey,” Poe says, cupping Ben’s face gently. “I’m going to be straight with you, Ben. I’ve forgiven you for what you’ve done, but I would be lying if I said I completely trust you. Forgiveness is free, but trust is earned. You’ve proven yourself to me by coming back and by not betraying us or your mother. And while I can’t be entirely sure that that’s not your plan, I have more faith in you than some others do. I see the goodness in you, Ben. I know you want to make up for your mistakes, but it takes time.” 

Ben doesn’t realize that he’s crying until he feels the warmth of his tears running down his face. Poe smiles at him and brushes them away with his thumbs. Ben laughs, high and hysterical, feeling stupid for crying over Poe’s words. He brings his hands up and rests them on Poe’s wrists, smiling at the pilot fondly. Smiling is starting to feel more natural again. 

“Thank you for believing in me,” Ben manages to whisper despite the lump in his throat. Poe’s eyes are glassy, but he’s still smiling widely. Suddenly, he pulls Ben in for a lung-crushing hug. Ben wheezes and chokes out another laugh, less hysterical this time. He wraps his arms around Poe’s neck and rests his head on his shoulder, revelling in the warmth and fondness of the gesture. It’s an awkward angle, seeing as Poe is a good head shorter than Ben, but it’s been so long since he’s had contact like this that it doesn’t really matter. For the first time in a long time, Ben feels safe. 

Somebody clears their throat and Ben and Poe pull away from each other quickly, startled by the sudden noise. Finn is looking at them with raised eyebrows. It’s the first time he’s looked at Ben without any trace of malice in his features. Ben steps back from Poe and glances between them, murmuring an apology before walking back towards the barracks.

As he walks away, Ben hears Finn and Poe’s murmurs. He glances back and sees Finn eyeing him warily, while Poe whispers and gestures fervently towards him. Ben catches Finn’s eye and immediately looks away. He keeps his gaze cast downward and shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, praying silently that nobody tries to stop him on the way back to his quarters. 

\--

Hux exits Ren’s quarters. It’s the third time this week that he’s slept there instead of his own quarters. The ship is, for all intents and purposes, stopped in the middle of space, waiting for a smaller shuttle to approach and dock against the Finalizer. 

“General,” Phasma greets. She’s fully outfitted in her uniform, with her helmet tucked underneath her arm. Hux vaguely recalls that a recon team is scheduled to deploy today with Phasma at the head of the operation, which is why the command ship is waiting for the shuttle to arrive. 

“Captain,” Hux responds with a short nod.

Phasma’s gaze shifts between Hux and the door he just exited, clearly perplexed. 

“General,” Phasma says slowly, “If I may ask...Have you been sleeping in Kylo Ren’s old quarters?” 

Hux fidgets but doesn’t break Phasma’s even stare. She’s not poking fun at him, nor is she upset with him; Phasma is simply confused as to why he’s emerged from Ren’s old quarters at the beginning of every Alpha shift for the past three days. It’s an honest, curious question, and Hux has absolutely no intention of answering it honestly. 

“No, Captain, you may not ask.” Hux brushes past Phasma, Millicent following closely behind. He stops just outside of the door to his quarters and turns to the captain once more. “I won’t be there to see your team off, as I’m stationed on the bridge for the duration of Alpha shift. But, I wish you luck on your journey, Captain.” 

Phasma looks at him for a long moment before saluting him. “Thank you, sir.” 

\--

Ben tries not to pry into anybody’s personal engagements. He’s made a recent promise to himself that he won’t read anybody’s minds unless he’s asked to, or if the situation calls for it. So far, he hasn’t found it necessary to use that power, nor has anyone asked him to, so he keeps to himself and forces down the urge to brush against people’s thoughts when he can just ask them how they’re feeling. Members of the Resistance, he’s found, are far more comfortable sharing their ideas and feelings than anyone in the First Order ever was. 

On his way out of the canteen, he spots Jessika Pava leaning against her X-Wing. She’s speaking with Rey, who seems to be talking quickly and gesturing wildly in their conversation. Ben idly wonders what they could be talking about as Rey flails her arms about. The sight makes Ben snort. Rey has adjusted to living and working closely with the people of the Resistance, but her body language and mannerisms are still awkward at times. It’s endearing, really. 

Rey says something that Ben can’t quite hear, and Jessika flips her hair and laughs. He watches Rey carefully, seeing her face turn a bright pink color as she looks away and laughs nervously. Ben smiles as he watches the exchange. Jessika is a beautiful woman, and Rey is clearly beside herself trying to impress her. 

On instinct, Ben reaches out and brushes Jessika’s mind, curious about whether or not she can sense Rey’s intentions. 

_‘...has the cutest laugh…’_ is all Ben senses from Jessika’s mind before she turns her head and eyes him curiously. He blinks and shoves his hands into his pockets before scurrying away, head down like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

Ben has almost completely forgotten about the incident by the time supper rolls around. He eats his meal alone in the corner of the canteen. His mind wanders until he’s staring into the bowl of rations without really seeing it. Suddenly, a loud thud jolts Ben from his thoughts and he looks up. 

“Hi, Ben,” Jessika greets, setting her helmet down roughly as she seats herself in front of him. The gesture is not one of anger or annoyance; Jessika is a nice girl who’s just a little rough around the edges. Just a few weeks ago, Ben witnessed her dominate Poe in a drinking contest. Six shots of Corellian whiskey ingested in under one minute left Poe and Jessika stumbling over themselves, laughing so hard they could barely breathe. Finn and Rey helped the two inebriated pilots back to the barracks, while Ben followed closely behind to make sure everyone got into the quarters safely. 

“Hello, Miss Pava,” Ben nods. Jessika grins at his formality but doesn’t dissuade him from using the title. “What can I do for you?” 

“I just need you to answer a question for me,” she says. 

Ben raises an eyebrow at her. “I already told you, I’ve tried getting into contact with the smugglers I used to run with, but none of them have the new X-Wing parts you’re looking for.” 

Ben often has to remind himself that only a select few know about his former life as Kylo Ren. Jessika believes Leia’s story about him being a former smuggler, joking with him that he definitely took after his father. Ben laughs at the joke, but there’s a dull ache in his chest whenever he’s reminded of, or compared to Han. 

“No, no, this isn’t about that. I just wanted to know...was that you earlier?” Jessika asks. “Y’know, in my head? I’m sorry if I sound crazy, I just know that Jedis can do that whole _mind-reading_ thing, and I thought...” 

His first instinct is to say, _I’m not a Jedi_ , but he knows that isn’t the point of her question. Ben fidgets, avoiding her eyes. She doesn’t sound angry, but Ben can’t be entirely sure. “It was. I’m sorry. I just saw you talking with Rey, and I was curious about...well, about what you were thinking, I guess.” 

“Oh,” she says. Ben chances a glance at her and is surprised to see a nervous expression on her face. “And what did you…?” 

“Nothing! I mean, just that you like Rey’s laugh, but nothing--” 

Jessika closes her eyes and covers her face with her hands before groaning, “Oh, my kriffing _stars_ , I can’t believe you heard that.” 

Ben isn’t quite sure what to do or say, so he squirms awkwardly in his seat as Jessika scrubs her face with her palms. 

“I hope you don’t think I’m being weird or creepy by hitting on your cousin,” she continues. 

Ben nearly chokes on the laugh that catches in his chest. “ _That’s_ what you’re worried about?” 

“Well, I don’t know! I just thought...I don’t know. I feel stupid now.”

Ben grins and shrugs. “I won’t say anything if that’s what you're thinking. I think I’m the last person who should be trying to play matchmaker. I’d ask Poe for help with that. It seems to be more his area of expertise.” 

Poe has a penchant for reading romance novels during his off-hours. Ben has seen him curled up in the corner of the canteen, engrossed in the latest of a serial issue that he’s absolutely crazy about. The cover features two beings of a species that Ben isn’t entirely familiar with, but he’s too afraid to ask Poe about it, lest he be sucked into a conversation that details all of the happenings within the story. 

“Thank you,” Jessika breathes, putting a hand on her chest in relief. Then, a look of horror crosses her face as she makes a sudden realization. “Wait, mind-reading is something that only Force-users can do, and Rey is…Oh, stars, you don't think...Rey doesn’t know, does she? Do you think she could have read my mind, too?” 

Ben shakes his head. “I can’t say for sure, but I really don’t think so. You’d probably feel it if she did. Even then, Rey doesn’t seem like the type to invade people’s minds and read their thoughts just because.” 

Ben thinks back to when he held Rey captive, forced his way into her mind until she fought back. He tries to swallow down his regret and forces a smile at Jessika. She furrows her brow in confusion but doesn’t ask any questions. Ben is grateful. 

“Okay, okay…” Jessika says, clearly trying to calm herself down. “It’s fine. She probably hasn’t read my mind. But, sweet Gods above, if she has, then she’s probably seen some _weird_ stuff--” 

“Please, Jessika” Ben says, putting his hand up to stop her. “ _Please_ spare me the details.” 

Ben leaves the canteen as more people file in for supper. He feels stifled and uncomfortable around the crowd, so he takes a walk to a cliff away from the base that overlooks the shore. He’s spent hours at this spot before, enjoying the open space and the crashing of waves against the rocks. It’s quiet, peaceful, and nobody has ever bothered him while he’s hidden away in this area. 

He sits there for a while, eyes closed as he inhales the fresh air and tries to empty his mind until a voice startles him from his meditation. 

“Are you going to sit there and brood all evening?” 

Ben turns and is surprised to see Rey standing there, arms crossed over her chest as she stares at him with a smirk. 

Ben turns away again and replies, “That was the plan.” 

He hears the scuffing of her shoes against the soft grass as she approaches. She sits next to him, mirroring his position: knees bent, legs splayed, and elbows resting on her knees as she hunches over. 

“Poe told me about your conversation,” she says. 

“Did he,” Ben says flatly. “I suppose he’s forcing you to talk to me, then?” 

Rey says, “No, though he did _insist_ that I talk to you. Try to make amends and all that.” 

Ben snorts. “And you seem absolutely thrilled about it.” 

Rey’s laugh is startling. He looks to her and blinks at her grinning face, still turned towards the water. “I can’t say that I’m particularly excited about it, no. But…” Her grins falters, and she glances back down towards the ground. “Poe says you can be trusted. And I realized that I can’t start letting go of what happened until I actually talk with you.” 

“You want to talk about what happened?” The idea of that discussion makes Ben feel sick. 

“No,” Rey shakes her head. “I just want to be able to talk to you like a normal person. But I’m now realizing that I’m terrible at conversations, even with people I’m completely comfortable with.” 

They’re quiet after that. Ben tries to think of something to say, desperate to interact with Rey as he would with anyone else. The fact that Rey is even trying makes Ben hopeful that his past wrongs are starting to be righted in some way. 

“You must like living so close to the water,” Ben muses as they stare out over the water at the setting sun.

Rey glances at him from the corner of her eye and gives a small nod. “It’s beautiful. I prefer the greenery and the water to the sands of Jakku any day. Luke tells me my attitude towards sand is much like his father’s.” 

_Anakin_ , Ben thinks. When Ben turned towards the Darkness, he hadn’t known the full extent of his grandfather’s story. He knew of Darth Vader and the terrible things he had accomplished, made attractive to him by Snoke’s coercion. But he hadn’t known that Anakin had turned against Darth Sidious and saved Luke’s life--that he had _sacrificed_ himself in order to save his son. 

Ben thinks of Han and his chest aches. 

“You still call him Luke?” Ben asks, watching Rey’s hand as she idly picks at the grass between them. 

Rey shrugs. “It doesn’t feel right to call him anything else. Not yet.” 

“I understand,” Ben says. 

Rey turns her head and smiles at him. A real, genuine smile, and it’s the first time he’s ever seen her look happy with him around. She’s beautiful, he thinks. Rey is almost the spitting image of Mara Jade, with a few distinct features that she definitely inherited from Luke. 

Rey’s smile droops, still there, but sadder than before. She looks away, back towards the water and the horizon. 

“Do you remember my mother at all?” 

Ben startles at the question, then realizes that Rey must have been reading his mind without his knowledge. Rey is stronger with the Force than he is, and is far more capable of being discreet when using her powers. That, coupled with Luke’s training, has made her a powerful ally for the Resistance. 

Ben nods, turning his attention back towards the water as well. “I remember Jade. She was always kind, but fiery, just like you. Her personality was...electric. She could command the attention of an entire room just by clearing her throat. My mother loved her a lot, as did I. Jade was not exactly the cautious type, either. When I was a kid, she let me hold her lightsaber and showed me how to use it. She sliced up a few of Luke’s practice dummies and I barely managed to scratch the surface of one. My father encouraged it. He thought it was fun, but my mother was afraid I’d slice off my own hand. Skywalker tradition.” 

Rey snorts and flexes her own hands before pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them. 

“I wish I could have met her,” Rey murmurs. 

On instinct, Ben reaches out and places a hand on Rey’s back. Rey tenses for a moment but doesn’t push him away, so he keeps it there.

“If she could see you now, Rey, she would be so proud of how strong you are and how far you’ve come. In fact, I bet she’s looking down on your right now and smiling over the Hells you’ve raised while fighting the good fight.” 

Rey sniffles and hides her face as she wipes her eyes against the sleeve of her shirt. Ben smiles and pulls his hand away before resting it back on his knee. 

“I also think she’d be very fond of Jessika Pava, too.” 

Rey turns wide, glassy eyes onto him and opens her mouth. “I--I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Of course you don’t,” Ben says with a small chuckle. “She’s a nice girl. I like her.” 

Rey huffs a laugh and hides a shy smile against her knees. They sit like that for a while, falling back into a far more comfortable silence. There are questions hanging on the tip of Ben’s tongue that he’s too afraid to ask. It’s the first time Rey has ever acted so warmly towards him. He doesn’t want to ruin it by overstepping his bounds. Rey, however, is one step ahead of him. 

“I’m okay with you asking questions, Ben. You’re my family now, for better or for worse. Fortunately, I think we’ve already lived through the worst, and we’re working our way towards better.” It’s the first time Ben has ever heard Rey use his name and it makes him feel warm the way that his mother’s touch does. 

Ben says, “I don’t expect to gain your trust, Rey. But at the very least, I hope that you’ll understand that I’m on your side now.”

“You’ve proven yourself thus far,” Rey says. “You’re getting there. And I can honestly say that I’m at least a little bit glad you’re my cousin.” 

Ben smiles. “I’m glad you’re my cousin, too.” 

“Even though I kicked your arse on that cold planet?” 

“Even so. Especially so.” 

Rey is quiet, pensive as she watches the waves lap the shore. Eventually, she inhales deeply through her nose and asks, “So which of us do you think will lose a limb first?” 

“I don’t know,” Ben laughs. “Let’s place bets. Maybe we can start a betting pool.” 

Rey giggles, “I bet Poe and Jessika would love that.” 

\--

Hux fiddles with the bowtie around his neck. The tie and the suit feel too snug for his liking, but his ensign insisted that he looked dashing. Now, in this too hot room with too many people, Hux’s skin crawls and palms itch. He doesn’t want to be here, but he plasters a smile onto his face and begins to circle the room in search of people to converse with. 

He’s never enjoyed attending these galas. Hux is the commander of a powerful army, not a socialite, but he understands the importance of attending such events. While the First Order is powerful, their power means nothing without the alliance of other powerful figures. As general, it’s Hux’s duty to create and maintain these alliances by socializing with people he would otherwise have nothing to do with. Tonight is no exception. 

Hux works the room with the same charm and pleasantries he’s learned to spout of by rote. His ensign follows him, murmuring names off of a clipboard into Hux’s ear before he approaches someone and greets them like an old friend. There’s fake smiles and fake laughs before Hux moves on and repeats the cycle. Of all the duties Hux is assigned to as general, this is by far the most taxing. 

By the end of the night, Hux has successfully avoided multiple unwanted conversations and found his way back to the bar several times for refills of his drink. He’s halfway through his (fifth? sixth?) whiskey when he spots his lieutenant sitting alone at the bar, his bowtie undone and laying casually around his neck. To Hux, Mitaka is like a shining beacon of solace amongst these pompous dignitaries. He straightens his tie and stumbles through the crowd until he reaches the bar. 

“General?” Mitaka asks in bewilderment as Hux plops down heavily into the seat next to him. 

“Lieutenant,” Hux slurs, his face pinched in concern. “I’d like to ask you something, if I may.” 

Mitaka nods. “Of course, General. Anything.” 

Hux swirls his drink over the bar top, momentarily mesmerized by the movement of the liquid inside. It spills over the top and Hux groans but does nothing about it. Instead, he looks back to Mitaka with a serious expression. 

“How pathetic is it that I still miss our dearly departed Kylo Ren?” Hux asks. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Hux can hear the rational part of his mind shouting at him to shut his kriffing mouth, but the words tumble out of him anyway. “I spent years despising the man, and then he goes and gets himself _killed_ and leaves me to do all the heavy lifting for our kriffing cause.”

“Well, General,” Mitaka says, clearly unsure of how to respond to Hux’s drunken confession. “Kylo Ren’s death definitely had an effect on the entire crew, and we all took it to heart--” 

Hux cuts him off with a bitter laugh. “I’m sure half of the crew was relieved when they heard the news. No more tantrums to avoid or destroyed modules to fix. Kylo Ren: as much of a burden as he was helpful-- _more_ of a burden, actually. And yet, I’ve slept in his quarters every night this week.” 

Mitaka says nothing and Hux feels the heat radiating in his cheeks, both from the alcohol and his embarrassment. 

“He thought he was invincible,” Hux continues. He brings his drink up to his lips and tosses it back before slamming the glass down on the bar. “And then the bastard went and got himself killed, and I can’t forgive him for that.” 

Hux leans in and rests his head on Mitaka’s shoulder, his eyelids suddenly growing heavy. He’s had a lot to drink tonight, and he can tell that the alcohol is catching up with him. 

“One more thing, Lieutenant,” Hux mumbles. 

“Yes, sir?” 

“If you tell anyone about tonight and what I’ve told you, I’ll space you faster than you can say, ‘I’m sorry.’” 

Mitaka’s shoulders shake with what Hux thinks is a low chuckle. “Understood, sir.” 

\--

“Do you read my mind often?” Ben asks, casting a sideway glance at Rey. 

It’s a question that’s been rattling around Ben’s brain ever since their conversation on the cliff. He’s been thinking of how to casually ask the question, but Ben figures there’s no casual way to ask if Rey has been prying into his thoughts. That revelation has led him here: asking his burning question while sitting across from Rey in the canteen, watching her scarf down supper while Ben stirs his own food with a fork. 

Rey shakes her head. “No. Well, not anymore, at least.” 

Ben turns his head toward her and raises an eyebrow. 

“When you first got here, I kept tabs on you. Finn suggested it, and I thought it was a good idea. We needed to know if you were...planning something.”

“You needed to know if I was going to sell out the Resistance to the First Order,” Ben says. He’s not hurt by this revelation. In fact, he’s quite proud of how careful Rey is, and how much she cares for her friends and the safety of the Resistance’s cause. Ben had never given her a reason to trust him--quite the opposite, in fact--so her watchfulness is reasonable, if not commendable. 

“I’m glad you’re not upset,” Rey says, giving Ben a small smirk before shovelling down another mouthful of food. Ben chuckles at the lack of grace in her eating habits. “I spent my whole life working for scraps. I think I’m allowed to eat without dignity.” 

Ben laughs harder then. “Are you just reading my mind for fun now, or can you not turn it off?” 

Rey swallows her food and smiles at him. “Right now? I’m focusing on your thoughts for fun. But it’s also constant, like...like comm static. Luke taught me how to master mind-reading, but now it’s like there’s constant chatter in my brain.” Rey gestures towards her head with her fork. “I can block it out for the most part, but it can make sleeping difficult.” 

“Hearing people’s dreams,” Ben hums. 

Rey nods. He watches her carefully as she stabs her fork back into her food. The question is there, and Ben has a feeling she can hear it. He’s curious about what she’s heard, what she’s seen in his mind, though he’s not entirely sure he wants to know the answer. She glances up at him with a sly smile before bringing up another bite to her mouth. Finally, Ben sighs. 

“Back when you were… _keeping tabs_ on me...what did you…?” 

Rey shrugs casually. “Mostly your self-loathing. You really need to work on your self-esteem issues, by the way.” 

Ben gives a sarcastic laugh. “Thank you. I’ll go ahead and jot that down on my ‘to-do’ list.” 

Rey grins for a moment, then her smile fades. “I also heard things about someone you miss. General Hux.” 

Ben stays quiet, eyes cast down towards the table as he rubs his sweaty palms against the fabric of his pants. 

“I shouldn’t miss him...I shouldn’t miss him, and I shouldn’t _love_ him. Stars, why do I still love him?” Ben whispers. He leans his elbows on the table and holds his head in his hands. He can feel a headache forming right behind his eyes, and he presses his palms against them so hard that it whites his vision when he pulls them away. Rey reaches across the table and takes Ben’s hand into her own. 

“You once stood by him, and now you stand against him. He’s terrible. Well, _I_ think he’s terrible, anyway. But loving him does not make _you_ terrible.” 

“The things I did for him--for his _cause_ \--made me terrible.” 

“And now you’re here. Where you belong.”

The idea of belonging _anywhere_ is foreign to him. Hux was reluctant to have Kylo Ren as an ally, and only kept him at his side under orders from Snoke. If Ren hadn’t been so valuable, Hux probably would have killed him at the first opportunity. Ben is still surprised that Hux didn’t attempt to murder him, given the hostility of their relationship. What makes it even stranger is knowing that Hux _did_ care about him. As much as Hux could care, really. Enough to dream about him regularly. 

But working for the Resistance…

He feels right here. He has his family, and _friends_ , and people who don’t cower and flee at the mere sight of him. For the first time, Ben feels like he’s doing something right and not just blindly following advice or being used like a puppet in somebody’s sadistic plans. 

“Are you happy here? With us?” Rey asks quietly. 

Ben looks at her for a long moment before nodding. “Yeah. I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long, long time.” 

Rey smiles at him before reaching across the table and stealing what’s left of his rapidly cooling plate of rations. 

After supper, Ben decides to head to the training room to get some exercise in. He’s enjoyed straying away from the physical demands that Snoke placed upon him as a member of the Knights of Ren, but his body is starting to go soft and training has always helped him clear his mind and improve his mood. 

Upon arriving, Ben spots Finn using the wooden practice dummies to work on his melee combat skills. Ben knows that Finn is proficient with a blaster. He’d watched Finn take down the First Order’s turbo lasers when he escaped with Poe, and he’d witnessed Finn take down Stormtroopers outside of Maz Kanata’s castle with skilled precision. Ben wouldn’t even call Finn a novice with melee weapons; he’d gotten a few good swings at Ben with Luke’s lightsaber before Ben cut him down. But Rey has been teaching him to perfect the craft by lending Finn her staff to practice. 

Ben watches Finn quietly, focusing on his movements and strikes. Rey has taught him a lot and it shows. Finn strikes at the dummies until one of them begins to splinter. Ben is impressed, flinching at every loud strike as Finn practices. 

Finn eventually notices Ben watching him and only glares before turning his back to him. While Poe and Rey have warmed up to Ben’s presence, Finn certainly has not. He still actively avoids Ben like a plague. 

“Didn’t your mother teach you that it’s not polite to stare?” Finn grunts when he realizes Ben is still watching him train. 

Ben huffs a laugh, “I was never a very good listener.” 

“Oh, I’m sure. You seemed to have a really hard time listening to your dad when he tried to talk you into coming home.” Finn flinches, squeezing his eyes shut and grimacing as he realizes how harsh his words are. The comment stings, hits Ben somewhere deep his heart, but it’s not untrue; the reality of Finn’s statement is what hurts Ben the most. 

“Believe me, I wish I had listened,” Ben says quietly as he picks at the fraying hem of his shirt. 

Finn sighs and scrubs at his sweaty face with both hands. “I’m sorry, that just came out--” 

“It’s fine,” Ben mumbles. He takes a few deep breaths and tries to swallow down the hurt. “You’re right, I didn’t listen, and I made a terrible mistake because of it.” 

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean it’s fair of me to bring it up like that,” Finn responds. He’s clearly agitated, either from his training or Ben’s presence, or something else entirely. Ben resists the urge to read his mind and instead decides to actually talk and listen. 

“You amaze me, you know,” Ben says as Finn picks up Rey’s staff and readies himself to fight the dummies once more. 

Finn raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Yeah? And why’s that?” 

“You’ve made great strides in your combat, especially since you weren’t trained to fight as a Stormtrooper.”

Finn glances at Ben with a quizzical expression. “How would you know? You weren’t involved with Stormtroopers at all, let alone their training.” 

“I know about _your_ training, really. When you escaped, I was briefed on your file. The superior officers were baffled as to how a Stormtrooper who worked in sanitation could concoct an escape plan the way you did. Hux figured his regime was flawed--” 

“Flawed?” Finn scoffs, turning his whole body towards Kylo now. “No, no, no. The way the cooks run the canteen here is flawed. Taking children-- _infants_ \--from their families and turning them into soldiers? That’s not a simple flaw in a design. That’s _sadistic_.” 

Finn looks at Ben now as if he’s expecting some kind of argument. Ben says nothing, but he doesn’t look away. He wants Finn to know that he has his full attention. 

Finn continues, “The first time you saw me, I was still in my uniform. But you saw through that. You knew I wasn’t a fighter, that my heart wasn’t in the fight, because I realized I was on the wrong side of things. You knew it was wrong, too, but you still ordered for all of those innocent people to be killed. You watched that monster order the destruction of the entire Hosnian System and did nothing. You _killed your own father_ , and then nearly killed Rey. And all for what? Power? To prove that you can be the biggest, baddest man in the galaxy?” 

The question, Ben realizes, is not rhetorical. Finn looks at him expectantly, waiting for an answer that might explain why Ben did so many terrible things, or allowed so many terrible things to happen. 

“You’re right,” he says. Finn seems startled by this, but says nothing. “You were on the wrong side of the fight, and you managed to break away and follow your own path--the _right_ path. That’s why you amaze me. You’d spent your whole life being trained, brainwashed for one purpose, and you still knew the difference between right and wrong. Me? I was a selfish coward, caught up in my own anger and self-pity. I was coerced into following a dark path in hopes of finding my purpose and living up to a legacy that I really knew nothing about. 

Every day, I regret the decisions that I made. I regret being so blinded by my emotions that I couldn’t see the bigger picture. I don’t feel that I deserve anybody’s forgiveness or any kind of redemption. I did terrible things, and I have to live with the consequences of those actions. Rey, Poe, and my mother have all put faith into me that I still don’t think I deserve, and I’m not asking you to do the same. The only thing I ask is that you believe me when I say I’m sorry, and that I’m not going to betray the Resistance. Even then, I feel I may be asking for too much.” 

“Rey keeps telling me that you’re trying. Poe keeps telling me that there’s good in you. But I’ve spent a good portion of my life being absolutely terrified of you. You were a legend amongst the Stormtroopers, did you know that? And not in a good way. Nobody had ever seen your face. We weren’t sure what you were, or what to make of you. All we knew was that we had to follow your orders without question, just like everything else. And it turns out, you’re just a man trying to fight his demons.” 

“Oh, how the mighty fall,” Ben murmurs. 

Finn snorts and Ben cracks a small smile. 

“You’re still kind of terrifying, by the way. It’s just your whole--” Finn gestures towards Ben’s entire being, “--dark, brooding demeanor, I guess. It can be off-putting.” 

“So I’ve been told,” Ben says with a weak laugh. “Old habits die hard, I suppose.” 

“I have a serious question, and I need you to answer me honestly.” 

“Anything,” Ben says. 

“I was taken from my parents as an infant. Do you know if the First Order ever kept any records of our family histories? I mean, they must have, right?” 

Ben looks at Finn’s hopeful face and sighs. “Family records were kept for medical purposes, but weren’t catalogued in the main system. I think they were afraid of Stormtroopers becoming too curious or going rogue. So yes, the First Order did keep records in the event that if someone were to fall ill and it was related to genetics, they would know what to do.” 

Finn frowns. “I’m sensing a ‘but’ here.” 

“ _But_ ,” Ben continues, “I’m not sure how much of that information survived. After Starkiller was destroyed, we scrambled, and I, uh, _disappeared_ not long after. Also, I was never personally involved in any of the record-keeping, both main files and medical. I would assume that somebody backed up all of that information in case of an emergency, but I can’t say for sure.”

“Is there any way someone could figure it out? Try and access it?” 

“I guess it could be possible, but I’m not sure who the Resistance comm specialists are or how much they know about the former system.” 

“Former?” Finn furrows his brow. Ben can sense his mistrust even without the Force. 

“Former, because all of that equipment was destroyed. Whatever was left was aboard the Finalizer, my old command ship. From what I remember, they had to start rebuilding some of the system from scratch. Considering the Resistance has proven itself more than capable of breaking through First Order security systems, I’m sure they’ve worked on, and are _still_ working on, new technology that would be even more difficult to break through. Any hacks that the Resistance might attempt could also be more easily detected. Again, this is speculation. I was never involved in that side of things.” 

“So what you’re saying is, it’s hopeless.” 

Ben shakes his head. “No, I’m saying it would be difficult. Nearly impossible, actually. But it _can_ be done. It will take time, and it will be dangerous. If the First Order caught wind of a hack, it’s possible that they could trace it and find the Resistance’s new base of operation.” 

Finn mulls this over for a moment before sighing. “I don’t want to be responsible for the downfall of this base due to my own selfishness.” 

“It’s not selfish, Finn,” Ben says sharply. Finn looks at him, clearly startled at his shift in tone. “Wanting to know where you came from and who your parents are? That’s _not_ selfish. I was implicit in your oppression, Finn, and you can be sure that I’m going to figure out a way to help you.” 

“Thank you…” Finn says slowly, meeting Ben’s eyes. “Thank you for being honest, and thank you for offering your help. I’d like to know more about myself but...it can wait. For now.” 

\--

“Sir,” Phasma’s voice breaks through Hux’s focus. He’s been poring over base reconstruction plans for hours, signing off on locations, schematics, and resource allocations in order to have this new base built as quickly as possible without issue. Unfortunately, a base of this size cannot be built in a day, nor can it be built without a few hiccups along the way. More unfortunate is that Hux is the only one with the authority to sign off on anything regarding this new base. He tries to remember how he handled this during the construction of Starkiller, but his brain is slow and sluggish from little sleep and lack of caf. 

“What is it, Captain?” Hux asks. He can hear the exhaustion in his voice and prays that Phasma isn’t here to lecture him once more about the necessity of sleep. 

Phasma enters the office casually, sauntering in as if it were her own space. Were it any other superior officer, Hux would be annoyed. But this is Phasma, a woman he’s grown incredibly fond of during their time working together. She’s strong, intimidating, and quick-witted. She’s almost like the female version of Ren, Hux thinks. Only without the Force-abilities and hot temper. 

Phasma seats herself in one of the chairs that’s positioned in front of Hux’s desk. It’s unusual to see her out of her Stormtrooper uniform, and even more unusual to see her dressed in civilian garb instead of the First Order uniform that most ‘Troopers wear outside of battle.

“Have you given any more thought to our request for shore leave?” she asks.

Hux raises an eyebrow at her. “Unfortunately, I haven’t had the time. I’m up to my eyes in metaphorical paperwork, and with base construction underway, I’m not sure if shore leave is even a possibility.” 

“It’s always a possibility,” Phasma says. “You just don’t want to step away from your work.” 

Hux narrows his eyes at her. “Believe me, Captain, if I _could_ step away from this work, I would. But there’s so many things that require my attention--” 

“This request for shore leave isn’t necessarily for vacation purposes, General,” Phasma says, one eyebrow raised as she watches him scroll through his datapad. “We’re running low on supplies, and Kessel is the nearest port that will allow us to dock.” 

Hux asks, “Is the situation really so dire?”

Phasma nods once. “Our presence is strong, General, but our allies are far and few between. I’m afraid we won’t last long enough to dock on any planet that allies with us before we run out of supplies. Kessel is nonpartisan, full of smugglers and thieves. They don’t like us, but our credits are worth just as much as anyone else’s, and they know it.” 

“And why is this the first I’m hearing of this, Captain? If we need supplies--”

“I was holding out hope that we might last through the sector and make it to Nal Hutta, but we can’t.” 

Hux sighs. “Just as well, I suppose. Have Lieutenant Mitaka make the arrangements to dock on Kessel.” 

“Thank you, General.” 

“Let’s just hope we don’t meet any resistance while we’re there, either from the people or the Resistance themselves,” Hux says.


End file.
